When Eva stopped in front of her little white car, she heard Dev cuss. Not that he tried to hide his dismay. She grinned, served him right. She drove a Mini Cooper, environmentally safer, cute, and took up less space and gas. While Dev wasn’t as large and muscular as Samuel, he was just as tall but leaner like a bicyclist instead of a quarterback. She liked Dev’s muscle tone better, not that she’d ever tell him of course. Still, he’d have a hard time folding his mass into her car. “I’ll drive,” she stated.
“You sure?” he asked when she opened the driver’s door and he eyed the space between the seat and the steering wheel.
“Yep.”
He walked around the hood and opened the passenger door. She was impressed he managed to fit into the seat—barely—after he pushed it back as far as it would go, cussing the entire time.
“Next time, we take my car,” he growled.
She liked the fact he wasn’t trying to force her into his car now. “Don’t worry. I doubt there will be a next time.” Not if she could help it. The less time they spent together, the better for them both.
Too bad for all the attraction between them, he was just as deadly a hunter as his friend Samuel, and that made her uncomfortable. She’d always thought killing was wrong. She knew the hunters did it to defend themselves and others, that’s what she’d been doing when she was attacked. She wasn’t stupid and all the Chroniclers were well trained from birth, but in defensive tactics. Their aim was to escape as opposed to kill. But now, more than ever, they had to give the soulless a chance to redeem themselves. Because the soulless had a right to defend themselves too. They were fallen angels searching for a way back. There had to be some sort of truce. That’s what she’d really been sent to LA to accomplish.
Not all soulless were damned, because there was still something worth saving about them and why they’d been banished to earth. A last chance. She sighed; in truth there were also many others, like the soulless who died tonight. For most, redemption wasn’t an option. She knew quite well and believed if a Chronicler couldn’t escape, they too would kill to protect their own lives. Unfortunately, sometimes there was no way to tell which soulless would be worth saving and those who were already damned until it was too late. In that, Devlin, damn him, was right. But she wouldn’t admit it. She just wanted there to be another way.
“You okay?” Devlin asked yet again, watching her.
“You keep asking me that and my answer hasn’t changed.”
“I’m sorry. I—”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I get it. You were concerned but, Devlin, you have to know it’s not the first time I’ve been attacked or the last and I can handle it.”
“I know you can. You just shouldn’t have to.” He raised his arm and placed it on the back of her seat.
She was glad he didn’t try to touch her. It had been a mistake to hold his hand in the first place, to allow him to touch her tonight. It’d been done, but she just couldn’t repeat it. She’d take him back to her house, let him see her wound had begun to heal already, and she would call a cab to take him anywhere he needed to go.
She should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that simple.
He sat in her kitchen leaning toward her. Her house was one the Chroniclers owned for fifty years, they’d rented it out all of this time. There’d been no real need to have a Chronicler near LA, until now. It had been renovated only a few years ago, new flooring put in, then painted inside and out, and the kitchen had been redone so it was more modern. The kitchen was expanded so it was large enough to fit a center island with a four burner stove, and two stools at the plate sized bar on one end. Yet the moment Devlin entered, the area around him seemed to shrink. Worse, she couldn’t get rid of him.
“Where’s your first aid kit?”
“I can take care of this,” she said as she took off her jacket. The sharp intake of his breath as he stared at the sight of her arm was a clue that she’d made a mistake. She glanced down at it and saw the blood on her arm, or rather, the blood her shirt was soaked with. Now she knew she’d never get rid of him unless she let him clean the wound. She sat on one of the stools.
The sword had cut deeply, but the bleeding had stopped and there was very little pain. “The kit’s in the cabinet to the right of the sink,” she told him.
He opened the cabinet, took out the first aid kit, and grabbed some paper towels. “Take off your shirt, so I can clean you up better.”
Eva hesitated, but how else would he clean the wound? She pulled it off and got up to toss it in the trashcan before sitting down again. At least she wore a sports bra.
Devlin wet the paper and wiped the blood off her arm but took his sweet time about it. At some point, his strokes changed from medical to sensual, or maybe it was just the fact he touched her skin to skin, his thumb touching around the cut.
Her cells and body couldn’t care less the reason. Only that he touched her. She sucked in her lower lip to stop herself from inhaling too sharply in reaction to his nearness.
“It looks like it has begun to heal already. I think you only need a bandage now.”
“Yes, in a day or so I won’t even have a scar.”
“That’s good. Nothing should mar this flawless skin.”
When he lowered his head and kissed her bare shoulder, she knew it had been a mistake to let him talk her into taking off her shirt so he could tend her. She could have taken care of the wound herself. Should have done so. She must have been out of her frigging mind to be sitting here in front of him with nothing more than jeans and a sports bra on. Even if she was perfectly covered, and the bra more utilitarian than date night, it couldn’t stop the rise and fall of her rounded breasts above the cut of the bra, nor quite hide the fact her nipples were hard and pressed against the garment. She had to stop this for both their sakes.
Her legs barely held her up when she stood abruptly and grabbed her jacket hanging on the back of her stool. Thank goodness she’d placed it there. “Thank you,” she managed to stammer, while putting it on and holding it closed. As if that could keep his eyes from seeing what they’d already seen. As if his eyes weren’t already boring through the material and heating her already flushed skin.
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice husky, but it held an underlying tone she’d never heard from him before. Then again, even though she’d known him for years, they really hadn’t spoken face to face to each other much until this last year. Most of their communication had been by email and text, and only recently, they’d spoken by phone.
“I need you to do something for me.” His eyes held hers, as though he could force her to listen. “No, I need you to promise me something.”
She was cautious, suspecting what he was about to say. “Depends?”
“I need you to stop putting yourself in danger. Stop actively seeking out soulless.”
She scoffed. “You think I want people to come after me with swords with the intent to steal my emotions and take my blood, or worse kill me?”
“No, I don’t think that’s what you want. I know that’s what will happen. This isn’t the first time you’ve run into soulless. As scarce as they’ve made themselves since Abel’s disappearance, there’s still an unusual number of them in this area. For some reason as soon as you appeared, they seem to be coming out of the woodwork to get their hands on you.”
“I disagree.”
“Not the only thing we disagree on, but it’s true. No more looking for soulless to try to redeem, it’s too damn dangerous and I won’t allow it.”
“Wait! What?” She pressed her fists to her hips, unable to believe what she’d just heard come out of his mouth. Then she poked him hard in his chest not caring that she was flashing him her bra. “What the hell do you mean, you won’t allow it? You do not dictate to me.”
“Shit!” He ran his hand through his thick hair. “That didn’t quite come out right.”
“Ya think!”
“It’s too dangerous for you. Tonight prove
d that. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if I hadn’t been there. What were you doing there anyway?”
“Hunting soulless,” she said sheepishly, pulling the ends of her jacket back together. She knew they’d be drawn to places of mass gatherings. “Look, I thought if I could find one and approach him or her, try to talk to them. Like Samuel spoke to Thalya when they first met. I believe Thalya isn’t the only one who values human life, and once they realize a chance to redeem their souls exist, surely the senseless killing will stop.” Even if she had to do the convincing at sword point. She didn’t tell him that though.
He frowned. “Are you trying to tell me you’re what, preaching to these damned blood suckers? What are you, a missionary now?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “No, nothing like that. I just think there has to be another way.”
“Of all the idiotic….Damn it, Evangeline, you could have been killed.”
“I am not an idiot, and I would have been just fine.”
“No you wouldn’t. My God, there were three of them after you tonight. That is damn sure unusual and I want to know why.”
“How do you know they were after me?”
“Because they’d been tracking you while we were tracking them. Because they didn’t kill you outright. They were fighting to subdue you.”
Damn it. She knew he was right. “I—I’m not sure. That last one seemed to be trying to kill me.”
He placed his hands down on the table and leaned forward. “But you suspect something. And don’t tell me its Chronicler business. I was charged to look out for you, and in case you haven’t heard, we are now supposed to share information.”
She raised one eyebrow at him, still not willing to let him get away with his domineering tactics. “To a point.”
“I’d say this is a point that qualifies.”
“I will not help you hunt down and kill the soulless. They have as much a chance at redemption as anyone. Until they prove otherwise.”
“As those assholes did tonight.”
This shut her up. He was right, to a point. “Look, you and I are going to have to agree to disagree.” All of a sudden, her head began to pound. She raised her hands to massage her temples. It had been a rough night. What she’d done tonight might have seemed foolish to him but she had to try. It wasn’t the first time she’d run into soulless and it wouldn’t be the last. Although this was the first time she’d taken on three. At first, it had only been the one she’d tried to talk to, then suddenly she sensed the presence of the others. That’s when she’d tried to run but the soulless had given chase and she’d fought.
Since the truth had been made known about the soulless origins, most seem to accept it, be stunned and humbled by it, though not all. And since Abel, the one who sat at the root of the discord, the one who preached dominance disappeared, things had been marginally quieter. Emphasis on marginally. But no one was fooled. It would only be a matter of time before something happened. She only hoped they could prevent it in time.
“Headache?” Dev asked, lifting his hand as if to touch her.
Immediately, she moved out of his reach. “Yes. I just need some sleep.” She ignored the look of hurt in his eyes when she wouldn’t let him touch her. She purposely turned away from him and walked toward the front door. Her hand rested on the door handle when his larger calloused one covered it. The contrast in their skin tones was obvious, hers a rich caramel to his pale cream, but beauty in the difference. She quickly removed her hand.
He pulled the door open but stopped in front of her. “This conversation isn’t over between us. I know you’re tired and it’s late, so I’ll let you get some rest. But tomorrow, I’m coming back and you and I are going to have a conversation.”
“There’s nothing further for us to discuss, unless it pertains to how many soulless you’ve deprived of a chance at redemption this night.”
“Oh, darlin’, that’s where you’re wrong.” He stepped across the threshold and pulled the door closed behind him.
He must have known she would have slammed it in his face at his dictatorial attitude. She twisted the lock harder than she needed to. The man irritated her like no other. Why she allowed him to do that she didn’t understand. She would just make sure she was unavailable all day. She had a lot of scanned Chronicles to transcribe and catalog into the secure database. Her task of setting up a Chronicler shop in LA took a lot of work. It had been a long time in coming. There were sufficient soulless and hunters here now to warrant her full-time presence. She’d found a good location and hired an architect to redesign the floor plan of the shop. The construction was well on the way and should be ready in a matter of weeks.
She still had work to do though. Besides, later in the day, she had another date with the guy she met at the coffee shop, Michael. Stop your heart take your breath away stunning. Nothing at all like that damn Devlin, but Devlin wasn’t exactly hurting in the looks department either.
While Michael had long dark hair, Devlin kept his short and he was a dark dirty blond. Yet, it was Devlin’s hair she’d wanted to run her fingers through the first time she saw him. It was Devlin she wanted to touch, to wake up to in the middle of the night and reach for. It was Devlin’s name on her lips in those early hours of the morning when the veil between consciousness and sub-consciousness merged and truth reigned.
She was a mess, but he could never know. No, he could never know. Why couldn’t it be Michael who made her feel this way? There was something about him that drew her to him, other than his exceptional looks. There was an emptiness about him, something missing that he needed a special someone to fill. He could be the one destined to be hers. Instinct told her it was almost her time. All Chroniclers eventually took a lover, a few even got married for a brief time. But there was only one capable of creating Chronicler offspring, and the father would be the one she’d be drawn to. A protector. Not a killer.
Her ability to read emotions was strong, although she’d been told once she married, it might develop more. But she couldn’t read Michael. Which wasn’t necessarily unusual, some people had natural blocks. Michael told her he was an art collector, at least they had that in common, she collected rare books. He was also trying to find a good software program to help him catalog his collections. They talked a lot about what was available on the market. He seemed really laid back, except when he talked about a piece of art. Then she could almost sense a passion about him. She was almost sure he didn’t prowl the night looking to kill anyone. Still, there was something about him. She’d have to pull some files in the morning.
Yet, in those early hours before dawn, the name whispering from her lips as she reached between her legs was—Devlin.
Chapter Four
Devlin walked down Hollywood Boulevard, his senses on hyper alert, ready for an encounter with one of the soulless. Unfortunately, none were around but at this point, he’d settle for someone else, anyone else willing to do something stupid. Anything to take away some of his frustration. Unfortunately, no one challenged him. The air of menace he broadcasted around him was clear for any idiot to see and kept the stupid at bay. Too bad, he had a lot of pent up angst with nowhere for it to go.
After walking a few blocks through the rougher parts of the city, he turned around to head back to his car. Other than earlier tonight at the concert, he hadn’t been able to find any soulless around. Even though they’d had reports that more of them had been spotted in the area than usual, two hunters had gone missing and were presumed dead. That’s what he wanted to warn Eva about, but when he finally had her alone, other thoughts crowded it out.
There were still plenty of hours left before the sun came up; there should have been a few out in this seedy atmosphere drinking it in. He got to his car and headed for his place in the Hills. He was exhausted in more ways than one. Why did he bother?
She hated him. No. That’s not quite true. He damn well knew she was attracted to him. She couldn’t quite hide the
way her heartbeat increased when he was near her, or the way her pupils dilated, like a woman in lust. She’d just chosen not to act on the attraction, maybe to hate him because of it. This thought gave him pause.
If she felt attracted to him, maybe he could work with that. In the months since he’d been in LA, he hadn’t been with a woman. Hell, he hadn’t been with a woman since the first time almost a year ago when Evangeline had agreed to a video chat with him. He’d told himself he had no time for a relationship. Not even just for a night. But he’d wanted Eva ever since the first night he’d seen her on that tiny screen.
It had been late. He’d just gotten back from one of the worst fights of his life. He’d stopped two soulless from feeding off a woman. He’d been by himself and these two were strong, maybe not Oldens, but old enough. If he hadn’t had some soulless blood in him or been less trained, he’d be dead. As it was, he’d been wounded. But the loss of a little blood wasn’t going to stop him from chatting with Evangeline as soon as he realized she was online. When she invited him to video chat, he’d agreed but first he needed to clean himself up.
He’d always been curious about what she looked like, but didn’t want to be the one to suggest they do a live video chat. He didn’t want her to think his only interest in her was based on what she looked like. He was curious, but that wasn’t the only thing about her he found interesting. Their online interactions were mentally and emotionally stimulating. After chatting with her online about a game program, computer glitch, or just about their day, he always felt better, energized. So he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to finally see what she looked like. So when he had a chance to see her, he’d wanted to make a good impression.
Angel Hunter- Redemption Book 2 Page 3
